


Favorite Toys

by orphan_account



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Light BDSM, M/M, Orgasm Denial, Prison Sex, Size Kink, Sticky Sex, dom Bee
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-14
Updated: 2014-07-14
Packaged: 2018-02-08 19:14:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1952853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blitzwing gets captured by the Elite Guard. But it's been months since Bee's seen the mech, and he can't wait any longer. It's time to play.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Favorite Toys

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Herzspalter](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Herzspalter).



> This is basically 10 pages of straight up smut. A huge inspiration from [herzspalter](https://www.herzspalter.tumblr.com) over on Tumblr for starting the BumbleBlitz ship. 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy it! This is my first time writing either of these characters exclusively, in this particular situation, ever. So I hope I did them justice!

“Well well well, look what the Elite Guard managed to catch,” Bee purred, sauntering into the ship. Blitzwing cycled through his faces each glaring – even Random’s optics had lost a little of their typical insane glee – out through the glass at him. His cannons were gone, and his servos were bound in stasis cuffs in his lap.

The German Decepticon had been put on his own level with excess cameras around the containment unit. Swindle and the Starscream clones were in the bottom level of the ship, in the last few still working cells.

(Bumblebee _may_ have enlisted the Jet Twins to help him with a prank that “accidentally” blew up all of the units not currently in use. Blitzwing happened to be in interrogation at that point, and when he came back, his cell was shattered open and filled with a combination of fire foam and oil. Needless to say, repairing and fixing the cells would take quite a while. Thus, the triple changer was moved to his own level.

Bee hadn’t been stupid about this in the slightest.)

“And here I thought you only wore a gag for me?” He flipped open a panel on the wall, barely visible unless you knew what to look for. He transformed one servo into a stinger, and zapped the second switch in the panel.

That particular circuit powered the security cameras in the room. With the sudden surge of electricity – just enough to cause a glitch but not enough to short out the video feed in the control room of the ship. The cameras now showed a loop of Blitzwing shifting between his faces, as he no doubt had been doing for a while now.

No one would see what they were about to do.

Bumblebee keyed the door open, leaving his servo as his stinger. The little yellow bug hadn’t been able to meet up with his play toy since the triple changer had been captured, and when Bee had heard exactly who did it, he saw fit to pay him a little… _visit._

Blitzwing settled on Hothead, his trademark red visor glowing a shade brighter than usual. His mouth was covered by a steel gag that was much more efficient than anything Bumblebee had access to at the plant. The stasis cuffs kept him from moving any closer toward the Autobot, but he still dimmed half of his visor in his own version of a wink.

The racer climbed up his mate’s leg, using his tank treads as a ladder. He straddled Blitzwing’s left thigh, a smirk on his grey faceplate. “It’s no fun to tease a statue, though…looks like I’m gonna have to get a little creative, hmm?”

The Decepticon switched through his faces so quickly that Bumblebee idly worried if he hurt himself. But the sudden tenseness and heat in his body told him that he was merely excited by that prospect, and unable to express that feeling cohesively.

Bee smirked, and pressed his stinger to the key slot by Blitzwing’s left wrist. “Calm down, or else I might not do this correctly. It pays to work side by side with Bulkhead and Professor Sumdac. Especially when they think you don’t get what they’re talking about, like a failsafe in the cuffs…” He zaps the right wire, and the stasis part of the cuffs fades away in a burst of electricity. Now the cuffs only functioned as regular handcuffs would, just keeping his hands bound.

Icy looked down at him now, his servos stressing against the cuffs. Bee smacked his knuckles, blue optics narrowed. “Did I say you could get free? No, I still want you bound, but you’re going to have a bit more maneuverability. It’s not like I can haul your aft around by myself, now can I?” he asked rhetorically. Well, he could, but he had limitations to how far.

Random took over, his optics wide in a way that would have implied laughter, had he been capable of talking. His shoulders shook with his silent laughter, and Bee had to hold on with his free servo so he wouldn’t slip off the tan thigh.

He glared up at the laughing Con, his smirk still in place, but a bit harder around the edges now. “Do you or do you not want the first overload that you’ve been allowed since I last saw you?”

Blitzwing switched over to Icy, his one good optic watching Bee with a somewhat challenging expression. His body trembled, betraying his true thoughts.

Bee smirks and settles his servo on Blitzwing’s shoulder, right where his canon should have been. “That’s what I thought,” he murmured, his mouth brushing over Blitzwing’s plating. “Now be a good boy and try not to move too much. You know how that irritates me.”

The Decepticon merely leans back against the wall behind the bench in his cell. His fans were already starting to run, the hum of the machinery much more audible than anything Bee could produce, save for his own vocalizations. Blitzwing’s chest heaved, and his wings trembled slightly against the cold wall.

Bee noticed – he always noticed when they played like this – and traced his fingers down the sensitive edge of the wing. The purple plating shone proudly in the light of the cell, a testament to how highly the former seeker thought of himself. “Gorgeous mech, aren’t you? Fitting for me, if I do say so myself,” he croons, teasing the triple changer.

Blitzwing let out a soft whimper, his wing pushing into Bee’s servo. He nodded, adding his approval of the praise, but jerked slightly when he felt a low-level shock against his thigh. He had disobeyed.

“Tsk tsk, Blitz. And here I thought you were a good listener. Do that again and there will be repercussions,” he purrs. Then he seems to reconsider it for a moment, and a smirk sprawls across his faceplates. “Now that I think about it, though, we haven’t had much time to work on your behavior, have we?” He leans back, reaching up and stroking Blitzwing’s exposed neck cables. The larger mech fights a shiver, exventing harshly in the quiet cell.

“And it’s not fair of me to think that you could be on your best behavior, now is it? Because you’re so worked up, all you can think about is your reward?” Bee lowered his other servo to Blitzwing’s panel, shamelessly stroking the hot metal. Blitzwing gasped behind the gag and tried to stay still, but he couldn’t stop his hips from lifting just the tiniest bit up.

Bee felt the lift – how couldn’t he, he was sitting on the mech’s thigh – and smirked. His servo left Blitzwing’s neck, coming to press a finger against the steel gag. Then he unscrewed the side, letting Icy have his freedom of expression.

And exposing his mouth.

He moaned when Bee kissed him hungrily. Ever the submissive, Blitzwing simply let his mouth open a bit, Bee licking at his lips and teeth seductively. He knew the smaller mech had a fascination with his teeth – and his tongue, in Random’s case – but this was the first time he had been able to indulge for a few months.

It was evident in his near desperate movements.

“Open for me, Schätzchen,” the Autobot growled against Blitzwing’s mouth. His pronunciation was fine when he wasn’t reading the language – all the extra symbols got him messed up. But he had heard Hothead use it on him a lot, and knew the basic gist of the word.

Obediently, Blitzwing opened his panel, exposing his dripping valve and pressurized spike. Bee ignored the spike, instead reaching down and slipping two fingers into Blitzwing’s valve. The older mech keened, rocking his hips against Bee’s fingers, only to feel him pull away. So this was the game they would play.

“So desperate, are we? And you’re so tight too…bet you want something else, something bigger, don’t you? Something more _filling_ , hmm?” He waited until Blitzwing stopped squirming, before returning his fingers to the mech’s valve. “If you’re a good boy, you’ll get your reward. Now lay back for me, I can hardly reach~”

Blitzwing, running hot and on edge, switched to Hothead, the visor burning bright. He leaned back, sliding down a little bit on the bench and spreading his legs further apart. The gag burned hot from his temper, raising his body temperature by a few degrees.

Hothead was normally the dominant persona when it came to the berth. When Bee allowed him to have a little more sexual freedom, he was the persona that always took over whenever he sought out pleasure. Random was too unstable to be trusted, and Icy was loyal to Bee – sexually – to a fault. Even so, he never touched his valve outside of their play.

Bee knew that. He also knew how Blitzwing liked it – hard and rough.

The smaller mech added a third finger, working into the slick valve with a moan of his own. His panel was hot, his own valve lubricating. He’d get a good few rounds of teasing out of the mech before he came undone. Rocking his hips against Blitzwing’s thigh, he kept working his fingers in and out of the tight valve, teasing the larger mechs sensory nodes.

Slow, languid movements of Bee’s fingers drove Blitzwing slowly more insane, the mech trembling as he tried not to move. Bee didn’t make it easy on him; then again, when had he ever?

Bee took his fingers from Blitzwing’s valve, licking his fingers and moaning softly. “So, _so_ desperate…just how I like you.” He dismounted the tan thigh, reaching his servos under Blitzwing’s thighs and grabbing ahold of his hips, before _yanking_ the other mech closer. He kissed up Blitzwing’s twitching spike, noting how he visibly jerked when he did that. His glossa flicked over the heated plating, making his way up to the tip as he reached into his subspace for a device to help with his goals.

He slipped the small ring around the base of Blitzwing’s spike, noting with a pleased chuckle how fast the previously whining mech looked up at him. Hothead’s visor glared at him as he tried to catch his breath, inwardly debating how he could twist it to get the ring off.

“No can do, pretty bot. I’m going to get my overload before you do, and there’s nothing you can do about it; but, then again, that’s how you like it, isn’t it?” Bee croons. He crawls back up Blitzwing’s body, a smirk on his face. “I know you know what I want. Give it to me.”

Blitzwing switched once more, now Random looking up at him with his usual mania in his optics. Bee undid his gag, tossing it carelessly to the side. “Very good,” he purrs, opening his panel. “Very, very good.”

Random giggles, but doesn’t say words. Bee had learned a long time ago that if he stopped everything the moment Random made a noise, they would never get what they both wanted; processor blowing overloads. He simply couldn’t be quiet when he was like this.

Unless, of course, his mouth was otherwise engaged.

Bee straddled his shoulders, running a loving servo down Random’s cheek. Blitzwing leaned into the touch, his glossa snaking out and licking over Bee’s array, greedily sampling the lubricant collecting there.

The yellow mech chuckled, and lowered himself over Blitzwing’s face. “No biting, you know that,” he warned breathlessly. The long, flexible, and impossibly _dexterous_ glossa wormed into his valve, collecting lubricant with a vigor that made Bee’s spinal strut melt.

Bumblebee had trained him well. Blitzwing knew what kind of sensory nodes to press and when for the highest amount of pleasure in the shortest amount of time. He also knew when Bee started panting into his upper arm, he was getting closer to his overload. And when Bee grabbed ahold of his cannons – rather, his shoulders now – he was gonna ride Blitzwing’s tongue.

So when he felt those small but strong yellow servos on his plating, gripping tightly and making a sturdy hold, Blitzwing knew he was in for a treat.

“Think you can make me overload?” Bee pants, rocking his hips slowly. It had been a while for him, too. “Or are you out of practice?”

Random had been happily eating out Bumblebee’s valve, but at the questions – and not so hidden insult – growled lowly. The vibrations travelled up through his chassis and into Bee’s valve, who let out a wanton moan before pulling the Decepticon flush against his plating again. “Prove it, then.”

He was close, and wouldn’t last long, they both knew that. Random brought his cuffed hands up to Bee’s shoulders, holding him closer to his glossa. He hummed deeply, his jet engine growling pleasantly between the two of them.

Bee – as he usually did – tucked his head into his upper arm, panting as he frantically rocked his hips against Blitzwing’s glossa. He overloaded with a gasp and soft whine, before moaning as the pleasure zipped up his circuitry. He came apart in Blitzwing’s hold, feeling the warm glossa massaging the sensitive nodes inside him.

Blitzwing almost overloaded from the sight alone, but he knew Bee wouldn’t be happy with it if he did. Not that he could go over in the first place, thanks to Bee’s little device sitting at the base of his spike. Random let a pout ghost over his face, before his usual manic grin was back, a plan unfurling in his processor.

Bee leaned back against the cuffed servos, panting softly as he sat up a bit to give Blitzwing breathing room. He didn’t expect the other mech to pull him back down. And he _certainly_ didn’t expect him to have switched faces. Then again, maybe he had just been too blissed out to really hear the transformation sound.

An ice cold glossa sliding along his valve’s opening made the smaller mech jump up a bit, hissing at the sudden cold. Blitzwing kissed up and down Bee’s thighs, licking the black plating appeasingly. “So sorry, Master,” he croons, red optics flicking up to Bee’s face. “I should have varned jou.”

Bee shook his head, but did pull away from Blitzwing’s grip. The mech below him licked his lips, his optics darkened in lust and frustration. Blitzwing’s servos clenched in the cuffs above Bee’s head, trying to resist the urge to reach down and take care of the ache building between his thighs. He watched as Bee stood up and jumped back down to the floor, making his way between Blitzwing’s legs.

“You should have, yes. And you also should have behaved and not spoken,” Bee replied. Icy merely huffed, knowing he wouldn’t have been able to win either way.

Bee then turned his attention to Blitzwing’s array, purring deeply at the state he found his pet in. His valve was dripping onto the bench, and his spike stood at painful attention, unable to get relief thanks to the little ring at the base. Every time the charge for overload built up, the ring absorbed it, keeping Blitzwing from being able to overload.

Slipping his fingers back into the Decepticon’s quivering valve, Bee watched as Blitzwing keened in pleasure, his back arching off the bench. “Mmm, please? More, frag…” Icy was typically the quietest, but as Hothead still had his gag on and Random never begged – only laughed and moaned – he had to pick up the slack.

Bee slid his free servo up the mech’s thigh, rubbing his fingers against his ceiling node. “More what, pet?”

“M-more…Master,” he whimpered, clenching his servos in his cuffs. “Frag me, please…”

Smirking down at his pet, Bee slid his servo over his own spike, feeling the heat and wet lubricant cover his black and yellow plating. “I think you’ve been good enough,” he croons, slipping into Blitzwing’s valve with no other preamble.

There was a slight burn as he was filled, but that was all part of the fragging. He never liked being treated delicately. He wanted to be used, to be a fragging _toy_ for the smaller mech – and if he faltered, then he would use Bee in return.

Bumblebee gripped Blitzwing’s thighs, pushing the mech’s legs further against his chest plates. Blitzwing clawed at the wall over his head, letting out a deep groan of satisfaction as Bee began thrusting into him.

He wasn’t quite big enough to shake the mech while they fragged, but his strength had been building since they started their trysts. He could now drag the mech closer, move his limbs if he needed to, and pin the bigger mech down – to an extent. If Blitzwing really wasn’t in the mood to play this game, then Bee would have no choice but to be on the receiving end of his conquest’s lust.

Not that he had a problem with that, but still.

For a few moments, the cell was just filled with the growl of engines and breathless gasps, until Blitzwing was cheated out of his second overload that night. He abruptly switched to Hothead, bucking his hips impatiently and digging his fingers into the wall above his helm.

Bumblebee smirked and took his spike in his servo, teasing the larger mech with both components of his array now. “What’s that? Did you want something?” he asked sweetly, though Blitzwing only growled from behind the gag.

“You know what you have to do,” Bee crooned, reaching up and undoing Blitzwing’s final gag, tossing that to the side with the others. He returned his servo to the larger mech’s spike, stroking teasingly slowly, even as his hips continued to pound into him.

Blitzwing panted harshly, his hips bucking in desperation. He wouldn’t subject himself to begging, not when he was this desperate. He hadn’t gotten release in three months, and was a little bit testy for it. He knew Bee was close, though, and felt that if he could trick the smaller mech into overloading, he’d get his own soon enough.

Bee, however, saw his mind going there, and pulled out and away from Blitzwing, leaving him open and wet. He pressed a button on the side of the cell, normally unreachable given that stasis cuffs kept the prisoner’s immobile, and suddenly Blitzwing’s servos were yanked back against the back wall, unable to be moved no matter how much he struggled.

“Specialized magnets kept in the cuffs; a failsafe, just in case the stasis effect ‘wears off’,” Bee purrs, watching Blitzwing try to struggle free.

It didn’t work.

Bee stepped closer, watching Blitzwing’s valve clenching in on itself, more lubricant dribbling out of the tan array. “Now, you can be a good mech and do what I want, or you can suffer while I bring you close to overloading, but don’t actually allow you to go. Over. And over. And over again. What do you say?”

The larger mech gritted his denta, baring his teeth – including the tooth gap which Bee found absolutely _not_ adorable, nope not in the slightest – to the smaller mech. “Nur fick mich schon, würden Sie? Meister, bin ich gut gewesen, bitte,” he growls, his voice huskier due to lust and lack of use.

The Autobot shivered at the thick German accent and fluidity of the language, before sliding back between Blitzwing’s thighs and back into his valve. “As you wish, you impatient mech,” he purrs, pulling the ring from the base of his spike. He continues thrusting into Blitzwing’s valve, stroking the mech’s spike in time with his thrusts.

It only took a few more moments before the Decepticon spilled his transfluid all over Bee’s servo with a loud moan. The tightening of his valve pushed Bee over as well, the smaller mech filling the tight valve.

They collected their breath for a moment, the sound of pinging metal filling the cell. Eventually, Bee pulled out, pulling a cloth from subspace to clean himself off with. He lets Blitzwing come back to himself – it wasn’t unusual for the mech to take longer than normal to settle after an overload – before he gently cleans the transfluid dripping from the other mech’s valve.

He crawls back up Blitzwing’s body, a playful smirk in place. “Did I tire you out?” he teases, running his fingers along the heated plating. “Or do you want more?”

Blitzwing nodded evenly, Icy once again in charge. “Let me go und ve’ll see how vell jou do,” he murmurs, optics watching Bee, a challenge hidden in the red optics.

Bee shivered, knowing his teasing had come to an end. Though Bee regularly got attention to his valve, he still didn’t have access to Blitzwing – and his spike – as often as he would like. Nodding, the smaller mech backed away, pushing the button to unmagnetize the wall.

Blitzwing dropped his hands to his lap, waiting for Bumblebee to crawl up and undo the cuffs. Silently, he waited, letting Bee have his inner debate. A smirk plays across Blitzwing’s mouth. “I’ll go back in zhem vonce it’s over. I just vant to touch jou,” he murmured.

Completely going against any and all Autobot training, Bumblebee listened to the prisoner.

He always did.

The bigger mech instantly had the smaller in his grasp, pulling him flush against him for a hungry kiss. His servos teased wires and sensitive plating that he knew would have Bee wet and wanton in moments. Selfishly, he canted Bee’s hips so his valve ground against his own valve, the feeling drawing an appreciative moan from him.

Overwhelmed with the sudden onslaught of sensations, Bee could do nothing more but weakly move to ease the ache between his thighs. His world suddenly shifted sideways as he was pinned to the berth beneath Blitzwing, who switched faces as he smirked.

Hothead took control, running his servos down the pliant and trembling yellow mech beneath him. “Roll over,” he purred, watching as Bee struggled to obey. Once he was somewhat on his stomach, the bigger mech slipped three digits into the tight valve, moaning at the squeeze.

He was still kind of stretched from Random’s glossa earlier, and he still required some preparation, but nowhere near what had been required when they first began their trysts. He ran a soothing servo down Bee’s back, before adding pressure to his shoulders to force him down to his elbows.

Normally he hated being so much smaller than everyone else, but when he was about to get a good hard fragging, his inferiority complex slipped a little bit. He spread his legs out a little more, rocking back onto Blitzwing’s fingers with a soft moan. “F-frag, Blitz…”

Blitzwing purred, leaning over the smaller mech and nipping at his neck cables. “Jou’re going to scream mein name, understand?” he murmurs, almost sweetly had it not been for the teasing rubbing against Bee’s ceiling node.

Like a turbofox in heat, the smaller mech lifted his hips and chin up, exposing his valve and neck cables to the Decepticon. “Y-yeah…once you frag me…” His defiant streak wasn’t so easily crushed.

Blizwing, however, found it somewhat endearing to have a built in challenge with Bumblebee. So he pulled Bee’s hips back towards him and slipped inside, his spike stretching the racer’s valve pleasantly.

Bee cried out, tapering off into soft whimpers of Blitzwing’s designation. He leaned down, Hothead still the dominant persona, and muffled the sounds with a hungry kiss.

While Bee may not have been able to move Blitzwing with his thrusts, Blitzwing certainly could push Bee around however he wanted. He brought one arm around Bee’s chest, keeping him flush against the other mech, while the other kept his balance against the berth.

Wrapping one much smaller arm around Blitzwing’s, Bumblebee let his servo cover the larger mech’s, his fingers fitting perfectly between Blitzwing’s. The small show of tenderness was all they afforded to give each other.

Or admit to themselves.

Blitzwing whispered hot and dirty nothings into Bee’s audio, making the smaller mech mewl and buck his hips back to get more of the thick tri-colored spike deep in his valve. When he bottomed out inside Bee, slowing his thrusts to force the younger mech to feel so unbearably full, Bee let out a high whine.

Their servos clenched together as Hothead did it again and again, groaning lowly in pleasure. He lifted his helm to lick and nip at Bee’s sensory horns, knowing the smaller mech wouldn’t last much longer.

“Don’t…forget… ** _mein name_** ,” he demanded, biting a bit too harshly on Bee’s horn.

“BLITZWING OH FRAG ME YES YES YE-!” Bee overloaded over Blitzwing’s spike and the berth, only held above the berth by the arm holding him up and the denta in his sensory horn.

Purring deeply at Bee’s overload, Blitzwing came to his own overload with a deep grumble from his tank engine, combating the smooth higher tone of his jet engine. He slowly pried his denta from the metal in his lover’s horn, before switching over to Icy. Gently, cool lips kissed over the damage, before covering Bee’s panting mouth.

What they had was a precarious relationship that depended entirely on good interfacing and long, quiet nights to themselves. The less they talked, the better things worked. But sometimes, in times like this, Blitzwing would let himself pull Bee closer, selfishly kissing the smaller mech. And sometimes, in response to that, Bee would let himself be coddled by the Decepticon.

By the time morning broke, everything had been restored. And if Bee had slipped Blitzwing a little something to encourage him to escape before the ship left, well, who was anyone to judge?

After all, it was his favorite toy that had gone missing. He’d do anything to find it again.

**Author's Note:**

> German translations, in order:
> 
> Schätzchen = pet, darling, love  
> Nur fick mich schon, würden Sie? Meister, bin ich gut gewesen, bitte ... = Just fuck me already, would you? Master, I've been good, please...


End file.
